Tag: mission

Yesterday morning’s lectionary text, Matthew 28:16-20 was one of the most well-known scripture passages around. It’s commonly known as The Great Commission. In verse 18 it says, “And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

There’s a lot summed up right there. Matthew’s Gospel doesn’t have Jesus ascending into heaven or promising that the Holy Spirit is coming to help them. Matthew has the disciples showing up to a mountain where Jesus told them to go and both the ones who began to worship Jesus and the ones who doubted all being commissioned to go ye and tell the world. He didn’t just commission the Super Christians that had done everything right (do those even exist anyway?). Jesus commissioned these eleven – a motley crew – to go make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Trinity, and teaching them to obey the commands of Christ. Surely some of these were gung ho and ready to go. Surely some of them were a little scared and wondering what was going to happen next. Surely at least one of them thought – wow, that was a cool three years, is this about the time I go back to my day job?

Last Sunday I had the opportunity to participate in my brother Josh’s ordination service. During the ordination service at a certain point you go up to the altar and there the Bishop, your District Superintendent and two people who have touched your life in some way or who have helped you on your journey to ministry, all lay hands upon you. I was honored to lay some hands on the little bro. Listening to the words the Bishop said to him reminded me of my own ordination. One of the parts that stands out is where the Bishop says something about authority. I actually carry the cards she read from in my Bible as a reminder of what I was ordained to. Here’s what they say:

Narcie McClendon Jeter, take authority as an Elder to preach the Word of God, and to administer the Holy Sacraments, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

There’s more to the whole service course, but there’s something important about that authority part. Not that we want the ordinands walking around with big heads and saying what’s up, look at me, I’ve got it all figured out now and I’m taking my authority and running with it. Not even. But there’s something about this ordination, the laying on of hands and the pouring out of the Holy Spirit that lets you know for sure and for certain, that it’s not about you. It’s about this larger story that you’re apart of. It’s about all of the years that you’ve worked, all the hoops, all the times of doubt and struggle, but even more than that it’s about this Greatest Story Ever Told that we’re apart of.

Enoch has now turned 4 and he’s close to 4 feet and the size of one much older than him. If you try to put the straw into the CapriSun for him, walk across the street holding hands, put him in his booster seat, you’ll hear him say these now familiar words. “By myself, Mommy. I do by myself.” There’s something inherent in us that wants to do things by ourselves, by our own might, our own smarts, our own strength, our own glory. Yes there’s the natural claiming of one’s identity and independence, but there’s also something in us that wants to do it by ourselves and not ask for or need someone else’s help. I hear the “I do by myself, Mommy” so loudly and clearly and confidently.

Jesus with all the authority of heaven has commissioned us (sent us out with blessing) to preach the Good News but we don’t have to do it by ourselves. There’s a tension there. It’s not all on whether we do everything right, have the most energy or enthusiasm or have all the right words to say. A little secret – we don’t suddenly get ordained and have everything figured out with the perfect eulogy, all knowledge of scripture and the ability to pray beautifully on command. So it’s not all about us or our merits, but we do have to DO something. It’s not about earning anything, but it is a command to GO and make disciples and baptize and teach and remember. Those are action words. It’s not based on our power, but God’s power.

Enoch is loving superheroes right now. Somehow he heard about Iron Man and Spider Man and Batman and he loves them. He wants to pretend to be them, he plays with the action figures, the whole thing. We can’t let him watch a lot of the cartoons because they’re scary and violent but he still loves the whole idea of these heroes. We were talking to him about Sunday school last week in the car on the way to church yesterday and he was talking to my mom about Jesus healing the paralytic man and how the man got up off his mat and walked. Enoch started asking a lot of why and how questions. Why did Jesus heal him? Why did he need healing? How did Jesus heal him? It finally ended with – because Jesus is powerful. Jesus is powerful.

Jesus is powerful. More powerful than any superhero – Iron Man, Green Lantern, Black Widow, any of them. It’s not about our power in this Great Commission, it’s about God’s power. It’s about being willing to go forth and tell all nations. Not just the people in our church already. Not just the people in the USA. Not just the people that look like, act like or believe like us. Or the reverse of that – it’s not just about going to some far off place like Fiji, India or Zimbabwe to tell people about Christ. We have to look around right here, in our time and place and live not just by our lives and actions but also by our words, the Great Commission.

What does this commission of God mean to us? What does it mean that Jesus called these folks, not great scholars or awesome speakers, not just ones full of faith, but also those with their doubts? Who are the “all nations” or all people that we are called to reach out to? How does our life, our home, our family, our community, our church show by our words and actions that we are taking this Great Commission seriously?

Those are questions to think about, pray over and wrestle with. It seems like a tall order at times. Especially verse 20 – “and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you.” That’s a lot of stuff to teach. It seems pretty big. But we can’t forget the promise, “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” We are not alone in this journey. We are not alone in this task. We are not alone in this great story. We just have to be willing to be an active part of this tapestry of movement within our world. We have to trust that even when things look darkest and at their most doubtful that God is with us and we have been given the blessing and the commissioning to go and tell the world about this great God we serve.

What does the Great Commission mean to you?

What are those little nudgings from God about ways to serve or ideas that may seem impossible or people that you just can’t stop thinking about, praying for, and wondering about, or the things you keep wanting to do but putting off? Often God calls us toward something, long before we answer. What is God laying upon your heart? What is holding you back? Who are the bad guys/girls that your superhero is facing? What fears and concerns can possibly stand up to the power and majesty of Christ?

May we not push aside or compartmentalize, may we not put off until another day. May we embrace and wrestle and intentionally wonder and vision and ask God to lead us and guide us as we depend on God’s power and might to carry us forward.

The United Methodist campus ministries went on our annual trip to New York this past week. It always a rich time with students getting to make new friends and see and learn so much from the city. It is also a blessing to be able to stay at Metropolitan Community UMC in Harlem. Their hospitality has always been a huge gift to us and a shining example of the United Methodist connection.

This year the United Methodist Seminar Program led by Jay Godfrey and Jennifer McCallum outdid themselves, scheduling 3 parts of our group in 3 different areas of the city for 3 days to learn about the communities, culture, and social action taking place. We were divided into groups going to the Bronx, Lower East Side and Harlem and had one day of service at a meals on wheels sort of thing where we actually walked to apartments and delivered meals to the elderly, one day of learning about cultures in our particular communities, and one day of seminar focusing on some of the issues in our communities and what organizations in those communities are doing to combat them.

I had spent some time doing seminars in Harlem and the Lower East Side so I was particularly interested in the Bronx. What a huge area and diverse group of people the Bronx includes. In all of the stops at museums, art collectives, a Yankees game, community action groups – each area of the Bronx was really different. They were all so proud to be “Bronxites” that their enthusiasm for their borough was infectious. We all felt like Bronxites to an extent at the end of our time. Did you know that the Bronx has more green space than any other burrough in New York? Me either.

What we heard from a lot of people and I would think the other groups would say this to, was people saying that they grew up dreaming of moving somewhere else and starting a new life, but that through whatever experience, education, epiphany moment, they decided to stay in their community and try to bring about change and keep fighting for chances and opportunities for the children growing up behind them. Many of the speakers we talked to were born and bred in these communities and the passion, devotion and pride that they felt for these places was evident in everything they said whether the good or even the challenging issues that they are still battling.

It was good for the students and me to see these people standing up for what they believe in using real, practical, and change-bringing principles to their every day, bringing voice to the voiceless.

The divide I feel when I’m talking about us going to a living wage rally or fighting on behalf of the poor versus some of the questioning looks I get from people back home, has a lot to do with people’s questions about justice and righteousness. We say we don’t believe all of the malarky about people who suffer having done something wrong or may not have lived right and have caused their suffering. We say that we need to support our mentally ill, veterans, the widows, the orphans, those that can’t help themselves. But then again, when it comes to our wallets and our own comfort, it seems easier to say and assume that if people were just working hard enough, if people just did what it takes to succeed, they would somehow pull themselves up out of these places of poverty.

We just witnessed a royal wedding where a commoner who descended from coal miners and criminals married a prince. As much as I like the fairytale and as hard as her family worked and as many names they have been called for “social climbing,” I think it paints a somewhat unfair picture of what the cycle of poverty really looks like. To say that it is hard to break that cycle is such a rough and belittling use of an adjective that it feels wrong to say. To stand up in the face of corruption, in the face of not just people but entire systems that abuse you, to demand the same rights that others enjoy when you’ve never gotten a fair shake – that is scary, it’s terrifying, it’s intimidating.

I am constantly amazed at the voices that do stand up though. I was glad to hear of a student from the Bronx talk about students in the Bronx organizing a walk out of thousands of students when the government was going to take away their right to a student metrocard to get to and from school. I was inspired listening to Intikana from Rebel Diaz Arts Collective talking about how they’re using art and music and film and all sorts of creative outlets to give people in the Bronx a way to express themselves in non-violent and constructive ways. It’s great to see young people working to bring about a new day. It’s good for all of us to see that we can make a difference, whether through our churches doing a soup kitchen, clothing closet, food pantry, or other social action. In the midst of the sometimes uphill climb and little defeats in the battle, it’s good to know that none of us are alone in this battle and that we have folks journeying with us all over the world.

From a faith perspective, we are clearly called to the poor, to the wounded, to those that need to feel that love and wholeness and new life. This isn’t just the obvious poor among us, but it’s also the single mom trying to make ends meet, it’s also our cranky next door neighbor who’s as lonely as heck, it’s also our friends, our family, the people we see at the office or grocery store or school.

One of this past week’s lectionary texts was 1 Peter 2:19-25 and it talked about suffering and following in Christ’s footsteps. Now, I don’t know about you, but I don’t ask God for suffering. If you suffer, you suffer, but Christ suffers with you, I get that. But I’m not asking for it like the lovely Mr. Wesley in his new year’s service. There’s two things I like in particular about this text – one that Christ suffered for us and so God knows what suffering feels like – for real without a doubt not even his fault suffering. There’s a song in the new Broadway musical, The Book of Mormon that’s called “Man Up.” I am NOT endorsing or saying you should go out and watch Book of Mormon or get the soundtrack. The story is about two Mormon missionaries in Africa and needless to say, one of them is seeing that he has a challenge before him and he’s like, hey – Jesus had to man up, so I need to too. I’m not saying that we all have to man or woman up, but the song is right in that Christ did suffer and die and he’s been there. He knows what it’s like to feel alone, tired, hungry, beaten, ridiculed, and tortured.

The other thing is that he did the suffering for us, that “by his wounds you have been healed” and he is our Shepherd leading us home. To me, this calls us in two different directions – one to realize that we realize that this LOVE and sacrifice was for us. The other is to realize that we have to share this LOVE and sacrifice with the world. We can’t say, that’s not my problem, it’s a problem over “there” with “those” people in “that” place. Nope, it’s something that we all must wrestle with as we share the light and love of Christ. This cycle of poverty only ends as we all jump into the fight, pool our resources, and leave our pride, self-protection, and rationalizations at the door.

We learned a ton in New York. It was a great trip. The thing I like about these trips is that it’s not just something we leave in New York, in this far away place, but these are things we learn and do and bring home to make a difference where we are, not just in a nice, greeting card kind of way, but for real.

How do we break the cycle of poverty in our communities? How do we break the cycle of unbelief and fear and doubt? How do we break the cycle of people believing that Jesus would just look at them with contempt and say that they deserved it because of what they did? What are our churches saying about the cycle of poverty and suffering? Anything? What message are we telling? What inner soundtrack are our lives rocking along too?

A nice, tame song by JJ Heller, “What Love Really Means.”

Man Up from the Book of Mormon – (don’t forget this is a satirical musical written by the creators of South Park and Avenue Q so listen at your own risk…this is your disclaimer, seriously.)

If someone was going to write a satirical musical about our faith? our denomination? our churches? what would it say???